


Like real people do

by tallpaleandanxious



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Also aziraphale is bad at kissing and crowley is into it, Aziraphale is a Mess (Good Omens), Crowley Needs a Hug (Good Omens), Fluff, Hugging, M/M, Slight implication of abuse, touch starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 14:23:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20437499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tallpaleandanxious/pseuds/tallpaleandanxious
Summary: In which Aziraphale struggles with the concept of freedom. Crowley struggles with the concept of socks. And two very touchstarved, very repressed celestial beings receive some much needed physical affection.No smut. Only softness, and a little angst.Edited but Un betad.





	Like real people do

_ “I will not ask you where you came from _ _   
_ _ I will not ask and neither should you _

_ Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips _ _   
_ _ we should just kiss like real people do” _

_ -Hozier _

It had been approximately one day 5 hours and 46 minutes since the world was supposed to have ended. Supposed being the important part of that sentence, because instead of spontaneously combusting in an explosion fiery death it had just... continued to exist. No fire. No boiling oceans. No unwelcome interruptions from various horsepersons. Nothing. Or at least it seemed like nothing. The average person had no way of knowing that, were it not for the kindness of a child-who-was-no-longer-the-antichrist the earth would have been reduced to a lifeless ball of dust.   
He’d done a pretty good job of it really, considering this was his first time saving the world and he was only eleven. Thanks to his youthful optimism some people who were dead were now living, some things that were broken were now fixed, and perhaps most remarkable of all, a certain angel and a certain demon were now free from their supernatural obligations. Not that either of them had realised this yet, as at this moment their minds were much to preoccupied with the consumption of alcohol to pay much attention to anything.   
  


“Careful with that!” Said Aziraphale curtly, as a not unreasonable amount of Shiraz slopped out of the glass, narrowly missing the sleeve of his coat. “This coat has been through a lot you know. It would be a terrible shame to get a stain on it now.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and staggered back to his place on sofa. “Well... maybe it’s time you changed it. Honestly angel that outfit went out of fashion around 1910.”

Aziraphale scoffed. “But_ I like it. _And anyway you’re the one who’s always saying that fashions come around again every thirty years.”

“Ah yes! Just long enough for people to have thrown all their stuff out so they have to buy everything again. Some of my best work that. Pity downstairs never saw it that way.”

“Well then, give it enough time and I will be quite stylish again.”

“Aziraphale.” Said Crowley witheringly,” I don’t think you’ve been considered_ stylish _since humans started wearing clothes.”

“I’ll have you know,” Aziraphale bristled “that vanity happens to be a vice.”

“Vices are for angels, angel.” He took a long swig from his glass for dramatic effect. “And might I remind you that you’re...not anymore...not according to heaven anyway, stupid buggers.” Until this moment he had been draped languorously over his chair, like a serpent coiled on a branch, but at this thought he suddenly shot up.

The serpent had sensed his prey.

“Look if you won’t change your jacket why not something smaller... like..... What are those things you always wear....? Stupid...like gloves but for feet...?”

Aziraphale sighed. In his experience once Crowley got an idea in his head, things could get very out of hand very quickly.

“Socks?” He said apprehensively.

“Yeah those! Nasty things. So ITCHY… Were they one of mine or one of yours?”

“Mine if I recall. The desert nights were so cold...”

“Well whoever came up with them.... you could get new ones.”

“But I _ like _ my socks. Same as I like my jacket.”

To his credit they were very nice socks. Cashmere, navy blue in colour and extremely soft.

Crowley leaned back in his chair and gave a long groan of exasperation.

“I know you like them, but that’s not the point.”

“It’s not?”

“No.”

“I’m not sure I follow you...”

“The point is you could change them if you wanted to.”

“But I don’t want to.”

“No I know you don’t! But you could! You have a choice! Angel don’t you see. Nobody cares if you get new socks or a new jacket or new anything. Nobody cares if you’re vain. Or envious or gluttonous.”

“I beg your pardon!”

“Or any other number of those stupid things. Just as they don’t care if I start helping little old ladies across the street and kissing babies. Nobody gives a fuck. Not hell. Not heaven. No-one. Because I’m not a demon and you’re not an angel. We’re free now!”

Aziraphale stared at him. Letting the words sink in through the fug of alcohol.

So much had happened to them in the last few days. Aziraphale been much too busy just trying to get them both through it with their feathers intact to really process the broader implications. But in that second the true meaning of Crowley’s words finally dawned on him.

The world was still there.

_ They _ were still there.

And they were free.

But freedom as a concept, isn’t the easiest thing to get your head around. Especially when you’ve spent most of your life just trying to follow the rules. Then it can seem downright overwhelming. Indeed, the more Aziraphale thought about it, the more lost he felt. Until he began to wish that his newly acquired liberty had come with a set of instructions.

Crowley on the other hand, was quite happy to improvise.

“We can do whatever we want! Just you and me. We could start a cult! I’ve always wanted to try that. Or we could give Switzerland an ocean, that’d be a laugh. They’re always banging on about not having a navy...”

Crowley trailed off and glanced over to Aziraphale, who had suddenly become very interested in the dregs of his wine glass.

“Of course it depends... On what it is you want. Perhaps it isn’t all that holy, starting a cult. God never was to clear about that, and it would be a bit much to have you dunked in hell fire having only just got you out of it.”

“You know,” said Aziraphale quietly, “It was so awful...what went on, thinking that I might lose certain things. That there’d be no more books... No more lunches...,” he waved his arms in a vague sort of way. “No more this...” _ No more us he thought. _ “I think I’d be happy to just do nothing for a while.”

“Well then, it’s just as well we have the rest of time to do nothing in.” Said Crowley cheerfully, and as if to illustrate his point, he ambled off in the direction of the drinks cabinet.

‘Quite.’ Said Aziraphale beaming as Crowley settled back into his chair, bottle in hand. A warm tingly feeling had spread over him. He wanted to say it was the alcohol, but deep down some sad part of him knew better than that.

“Still,” mused Crowley, unceremoniously ripping out the cork with his teeth. “There must be _ something _you’ve always wanted to try that head office wouldn’t approve of.”

Aziraphale gave him a reproachful look. Partly in response to the question and partly because Crowley had just spat the cork into one of his antique vases.

“I know, I know. Nothing _ really EVIL _ just... not officially sanctioned by Gabriel the twat. C’mon angel you must harbour some secret desire.” His golden eyes gazed searchingly into Aziraphales blue ones. “Everyone does. I should know.”

Aziraphale stared back. It was very familiar, that look on his face. Just a slight turning up at the lips, a millimetre raising of an eyebrow, far too subtle for anyone else to notice, but he knew over the course of history it had caused the downfall of many a mortal man.

But then, Aziraphale wasn’t a mortal man.

That was what made it so much worse.

He swallowed hard. His mouth suddenly dry despite the plentiful supply of wine. He’d never been particularly forceful about denying himself certain, more earthly pleasures. As an angel he was supposed to love. It was in his job description, so why shouldn’t that love also extend to crepes? And Oscar Wilde? And comfy armchairs? But even Aziraphale knew there was a limit to that logic. There were some things he had no right to desire. Things that no good, sensible angel ought to be indulging in.

However much he may want to.

When you are a sexless, immortal, incorporeal being displays of physical affection can seem rather trivial. After all, it is quite difficult to hold hands when hands, as a concept, have yet to be invented.

_ God didn’t make human form compulsory until a week before she created Adam. She didn’t want scare the poor boy. _

So by and large angels tended to view such matters as both extremely pointless and vaguely disgusting. Just another of the countless ways that humans have invented to waste time and invite temptation. For a long time Aziraphale had thought no differently. He tried hard to be like the other angels. He followed orders. He didn’t ask questions. He placed his faith in the great plan of the almighty. But whatever he did, he could never quite shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

Aziraphale would be the first to admit, he’d never really fit into heaven very well. Where the others-Michael and Gabriel et al- carried out their duties with serine, polished professionalism, he was bumbling and clumsy and worried too much. He was just too weak they told him, too stupid….too _ soft _. Oh, he knew they were only saying that because they cared about him, because they didn’t want to see him fall, but their words always left him with a curious empty feeling. Like there was a blank space inside him that needed to be filled. If food had been invented yet he would have likened it to hunger, but as that particular pleasure was still some time off, he had nothing to compare it to. Of course God would know, she knew everything, but it would be too risky to ask her. Only a little while ago an angel had fallen because he’d asked too many questions. No, it was it was safer to keep his mouth shut. But silence couldn’t stop him yearning. Yearning for something he couldn’t name.

Then god created Adam.

And then eve.

And he was sent to guard them...

And he had watched, from his post on the top of the wall, how they had stared at each other. Eyes bright with such wonder and relief and hope that here at last was someone like them.

He had watched as slowly they had reached out and pressed their palms together, their fingers intertwining, As though they didn’t quite believe that what they saw was really real.

After that, Aziraphale would often see them strolling through the garden hand in hand, or sleeping in each other’s arms beneath the shade of the apple tree. It seemed the closer their bond became the closer their bodies got. Until they learned to express, with hands and lips and the brush of skin against skin all they meant to each other.

Aziraphale wasn’t keen on all the things they did. He often wondered why god had to make the business of procreation quite so messy and undignified. But when he saw them sitting together at sunset, folded in a gentle embrace he thought he understood. Humans weren’t like angels. Their physical existence, their fragile temporary bodies were all that they had. What better way was there for them to express their love than by sharing that with someone else? It was really rather lovely if you thought about it.....and Aziraphale did think about it…because it made that empty feeling inside him feel just a little less empty. It dawned on him then, as the sun set on the tenth day, that maybe this was what he’d been missing, This thing called touch.

The next day a demon came to Eden.

A wiley and clever demon, with eyes like a serpents and hair that fell about him in crimson ribbons. He’d come to ask eve a question he said, and she’d answered him. Only she answered wrong, and for her punishment she, Adam, and their unborn child were cast from the safety of paradise. Forced to make their own way in that big frightening new world.

They’d coped quite well Aziraphale thought. All things considered. It only took a few hundred years for the population to expand rapidly, and Aziraphale was tasked with keeping watch over those first green shoots of human endeavour. Those shoots grew quickly, but they died quickly too. As he bore witness to countless civilisations rise and fall, He saw death and destruction and war, and all of the horrors that mankind could be capable of, but always too he saw love. That first touch of hands, that first longing gaze shared by Adam and eve. Echoed on the faces of mothers with their children and brothers at football matches. On teenagers kissing drunkenly behind bus stops and old married couples holding hands in the park.

And he smiled, because it was good.

But even the most diligent observers can grow tired of watching from the side-lines. The winter nights could be so long. Especially when you don’t need to sleep, and all you have to fill the empty hours are some cheap paperbacks.

_ Due to an unfortunate incident involving a robbery and few misspent miracles, there was a brief period where that was all he could get. Apparently even the burglars had enough sense to leave them behind. _

And it was during these lonely nights that his thoughts would begin wandering… back to someone he once met, in a garden long ago.

It usually happened sometime around the last chapter.

There would be some overly dramatic scene- with the hero professing his undying love to some fair maiden, and then they would kiss passionately on some windswept cliff overlooking the sea. As he read the words would turn to pictures flashing through his mind, and suddenly he was the hero standing on the windswept moor. Rain lashing at him, heart pounding, as he cried into the wind, except the one he was confessing to wasn’t the vicar’s daughter.

It was Crowley.

A Crowley, who had long hair that fell about him in crimson ribbons.

A Crowley who would take him gently, and with slender fingers, bring his chin up to meet his...

And then...

No no no! He couldn’t...how could he even imagine. It was absurd! It was obscene! He wasn’t supposed to want things like that. Or think things like that. He was an angel. He was supposed to be content with the all-consuming love of the almighty. Not some stupid human fantasy- And with a demon no less! It was sinful.

It was wrong.

So he bit his tongue and told himself he’d been with the humans too long. Told himself he was being pathetic. If Crowley knew he would laugh at him surely. He’d be disgusted and then he wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore. It was better to just squash such silly thoughts to the back of his mind and forget about them.

But that was then. Right now in the present he was drunk in his bookshop, and he had just been asked a question. A question that implied something rather thrilling.

_ Tell me what you desire angel, and I will give it to you. _

Except he wasn’t an angel anymore, And Crowley wasn’t a demon. They were on their own side now. A side where maybe, kissing the one you loved was an okay thing to do.

“Well,” He said at last. “There is one thing...”

“Ohhh yeeeess.” Said Crowley leaning towards him. His interest very much piqued.

“Well it’s quite silly really... but...I’ve always wondered.....I mean I wanted to try...just once...to see what it was like to... to...”

“To what angel?” Said Crowley patiently.

Aziraphale coughed and looked at his shoes. Suddenly painfully aware that his pale skin had flushed a traitorous shade of pink.

“To...._ kiss you _.” He said. Whispering the words under his breath as though he’d just said something scandalous.

“Oh.” Said Crowley in surprise. He stared Aziraphale for a long moment. His deadened senses taking a while to process what he’d heard. Aziraphale squirmed. His heart thumping in his chest. He was going to laugh at him surely. He was going to think he was stupid.

“OHHHHHHHHHHHH!!” He cried out suddenly. “_ Is that all?!!” _

“Well...yes...” Said Aziraphale, his embarrassment somewhat eased by Crowley’s reaction. “I mean I know it’s a little odd... I don’t know if you’ll like it... I don’t even know if I’LL like it. But the humans seem to muddle through it all right. They even seem to enjoy it... and they were right about food. And books. So it seems foolish not to try it at least once...”

“Aziraphale.” Said Crowley softly putting a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “Just kiss me you daft bastard.”

‘Oh!’ Said Aziraphale gazing in astonishment at the hand on his shoulder, then at Crowley and back again. “Oh....! Right then!” He hesitated, unsure of quite how to proceed. And then took him awkwardly, but determinedly, by the shoulders and pulled him close until they were almost nose to nose. Crowley looked at him expectantly, and Aziraphale felt his chest go tight. He had never been this close to him before, to anyone before. Close enough that he could breathe in the scent of him, Like leather and hair gel with just a hint of burning. His stomach lurched. Perhaps this was something he would be better off doing sober.

“Wait a moment. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it properly.” He gave a little shudder, and his whine glass miraculously refilled itself.

“I S’pose you’re right.” Said Crowley taking his example and sobering up too. “But I still think this kind of thing is more fun to do when you’re smashed.”

“Perhaps…but I wouldn’t want you think I was taking advantage...”

“Aziraphale!”

“Oh all right!”

Sacrificing his last shred of courage, and quite possibly all his dignity, Aziraphale leaned forward and pressed his lips to Crowley’s.

It must be said that although the sum total of human entertainment may suggest otherwise, nobody’s first kiss is ever particularly good. Certainly Aziraphales wasn’t any different in that regard, at least at first. For it was a stilted awkward thing. Not so much a kiss as an intervention between two nations trying to sign a peace agreement.

_ Namely, overly formal, completely unexciting and over much too quickly. _

It would have ended there, with Aziraphale apologising profusely and begging Crowley to never speak of it again, Were it not for three things.

  1. Aziraphale was over thinking.
  2. Crowley knew that Aziraphale was overthinking.
  3. Crowley, unbeknown to Aziraphale, had wanted this for much longer than he had. About six thousand years longer in fact, And now he finally had the opportunity he was dammed if he was going to let it get away from him.

“I’m sorry.” Said Aziraphale wringing his hands. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he knew it hadn’t been good. “That wasn’t right was it... please just forget I ever mentioned it.” He started to move away but Crowley grabbed his arm.

“Wait!” He said abruptly and then seeing the shock on Aziraphales face added “maybe just...slow down a bit yeah?”

Aziraphale winced. “Oh my dear, I do want to...go faster I mean, it’s just...” He gave an apologetic little shrug. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“Neither do I!” Said Crowley, Throwing his arms wide. “Haven’t got a flaming clue!! I mean they don’t exactly encourage all that touchy feely sentimental stuff down at headquarters. Doesn’t look very good on the records if you go around kissing people and showering love and affection everywhere, but not knowing is no reason not to try. For hells sake angel it never stopped us before!

“So… you want to try it again. Even if it’s a complete disaster?”

“Especially if it’s a disaster!” Said Crowley. A grin splitting his face from ear to ear. “Disaster is my middle name.”

“I thought your middle name was Jonathan.”

“_ Jonathan _! Why would you think it was Jonathan?”

“Because of the J.... I mean if you won’t tell me what it stands for.”

Crowley gave a groan of mock exasperation. “Perhaps,” he said turning back to the task at hand. “Snogging is a bit ambitious for now. You gotta walk before you can run y’know? Maybe we should try something simpler.”

Aziraphale thought for a moment. “Ah! I know the very thing.”

“Angel what are you...”

But before he had a chance to protest, Aziraphale had slipped his arms around his thin waist.

It pleased Aziraphale greatly to find that he was naturally good at giving hugs. There was something extremely satisfying about the way that Crowley’s body- all sharp edges and angles- fitted so neatly into his own soft curves. In the way he could feel his heart beating, his body expanding as he drew breath and His hair tickling the side of his face. They were such small things. Inconsequential really. But in the mind of someone who until today, had barely been given so much as a handshake, they were massive. As huge and hot and burning as new born stars.

“Thank you my dear.” he whispered softly into Crowley’s shoulder.

“Oh shut up!” Said Crowley. But Aziraphale could tell from the wobble in his voice that he meant quite the opposite. It was only then that he noticed maybe Crowley’s heartbeat was just a little bit too fast. That maybe there was a hint of desperation in the way His fingers clawed into the fabric of his jacket. _ Can it be... _ thought Aziraphale, _ that he’s afraid? _

He very much hoped that it wasn’t his doing. The last thing he’d meant to do was to push Crowley into something that made him uncomfortable. He loosened his grip slightly, just enough to let him know it was ok to leave if he wanted, but Crowley simply held on to him tighter, like a frightened child seeking comfort after a bad dream. _ Oh you poor thing _ thought Aziraphale. Running his hands up and down his back comfortingly. He wasn’t sure what had made him react like this, but he knew right now the best thing he could do was to make sure he felt safe.

They stayed like that for a long time. Slowly, the tension Crowley had been holding began to melt until Aziraphale heard him let out a sigh, his body limp as a damp rag.

“They don’t touch you know in hell.” He said at last. His voice unnaturally calm.

“Oh, Crowley.”

“Not a handshake. Not even a pat on the back to say hey nice tempting out there today guys keep up the good work. Nothing. They just stare at you with those weird black pupils. But I wanted to Aziraphale I wanted...just once. ..To maybe feel something that wasn’t pain... but I wasn’t allowed. It was part of my punishment. When I fell.” the flatness in his voice quivered and died, and he sobbed. Muffling the sound by burying his face in Aziraphales shoulder.

“Oh my dear boy...” Said Aziraphale softly. In all the years he had spent pining, it had never occurred to him that Crowley might have needed this just as badly as he had wanted to give it. He had always been told demons weren’t capable of such things. That they were creatures of damnation. Of Souls dyed black with sulfer and drowned in hate. Something so evil couldn’t possibly need to be held, or kissed, or given any affection all. Sex possibly- Lust was in their jurisdiction after all, but love? Warmth? Tenderness? No. Those were all human things. Demons surely looked down on them just as angels did. But if that had been true, then why was a demon clinging to him now, crying out in desperation?

If God had created Aziraphale with such a deeply human flaw, then what was to say she hadn’t made another like him once, long ago?

An angel who was perhaps a bit too smart for his own good.

An Angel who perhaps asked too many questions.

An angel who fell. Condemned to spend eternity starved of the very thing he needed most.

Like a serpent starved of the sun.

“Oh my dear boy.” Said Aziraphale tenderly. “I had no idea.....”

“S’not your fault.” Said Crowley. He sounded a little calmer now. “They don’t exactly go in for half measures up there. If you go you have to give up everything that’s nice. All of it. Even the word n...I...c...e... is slightly dodgy. Just saying it can get you into trouble.”

Aziraphale squeezed him tightly. Determined to make him feel that he was loved, that he was forgiven, but however close he held him, it didn’t seem to be enough.

“My dear, I know it’s been too long... but I promise you, you can now.” He said holding Crowley’s head in his hands, so he could see his face.

“Can what? Say the word nice? I could already do that...”

“No. Feel this.”

And Aziraphale kissed him gently on the forehead. Then on the cheek and then before he had a chance to realise what he was doing, on the lips. Properly this time. Sweetly, slowly, Chaste but lingering. And Crowley kissed him back, his mouth fitting together with Aziraphales like two pieces of a puzzle, two halves of one whole. It was a strange sensation, Aziraphale thought. Not unlike eating a peach with your eyes shut. But he had to admit, no peach that he had ever eaten had ever been quite like this. As he could only marvel at the sensation of Crowley’s warm breath his skin, of his hands as they ruffled his hair, and crimson lips against his, soft and gentle and tasting mildly of wine.It was as if a barrier had been lifted The curtains parted. The gateway opened, and warmth was flooding around him, filling up that cold empty space in his chest until it was almost overflowing.   
And oh heavens....it felt right.   
It felt right like the bitter tang in dark chocolate. like the sharp note in a melody. Like the quiet after the storm, like the silver light before the dawn. To do this. To give love and receive it return, Not the distant untouchable heavenly kind but this tangible, physical fleeting thing, felt right to him in all the ways that heaven had felt wrong.   
He heard Crowley make a soft, moaning sort of sound which he responded to in kind.   
Hell had been wrong too. 

How long they stayed like that neither of them knew, for they had no reason to care. It was only when they were both breathless and tired, with their clothes crumpled and their hair ruffled that at last they broke apart.

For a moment they just stared at each other. Each of them thinking same thought.

_ Ohmygodijustkissedmybestfriend!!? _

“I think, perhaps we should add that to the list of things humans have got right.” Said Aziraphale after he had recovered his ability to speak.

“I should bloody well think so! Since we’ve both been pining away like morons for all this time I’d have thought that much would be obvious.”

“Well how was I supposed to know it would turn out like this? I’m not exactly an expert in that department you know. I mean just because we’re friends it doesn’t guarantee that you’d enjoy it if we...”

“Snogged each other stupid?”

“Exactly.”

“Aziraphale. Why do you think I wanted to be friends with you in the first place?”

“Do you mean to tell me you’ve been following me around for eternity just because you wanted to lock lips with me?”

It was now Crowley’s turn to go pink in the face.

“Well...yeah...but that wasn’t the _ only _ reason...”

“I should hope not, otherwise it does lend a slightly different tint to our relationship.”

“Angel!” Said Crowley visibly squirming. “That’s not what I Meant... yes I wanted to, but I only wanted to because I was....because I’m in....” he rolled his head backwards and stared at the ceiling. "PLEASE angel, don't make me say it."

Aziraphale didn’t mind. He knew talking about his feelings wasn’t exactly Crowley’s strong point, and In truth he didn’t actually need it confessed to him, not when he’d been able to sense it so clearly for so long.

He smiled gently and took Crowley’s hand in his.

“It’s alright my dear. I know.”

“Oh shut up.”

Crowley turned away from him and huffed. Although Aziraphale couldn’t help noticing that he gave his fingers a squeeze.

“Isn’t it strange,” said Aziraphale after they had both calmed down enough to tidy themselves up.

“I mean there we both were, pining away for six thousand years and it took the world nearly ending before we did anything about it. We have been foolish haven’t we?”

“P’haps that’s what the apocalypse was actually for.” Said Crowley shrugging. “For all we know it was just gods way of saying get on with it for fucks sake.”

“Seems a bit drastic don’t you think?”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures. I think watching us moping around like a couple of love-struck teens for eternity is enough to drive anyone to bring about the apocalypse.”

“Well I suppose we can’t rule it out. After all god’s plan is...”

“If you say ineffable I am walking out the door right now and I’m taking the good wine with me.”

“Alright. I won’t. But you have to admit it is remarkable. I mean...An angel and a demon..._ kissing and things... together! _ Heaven knows what she would be thinking if she could see us now.”

As chance would have it, god who had indeed been hard at work on her own ineffable plan, chose this very moment to set her all-knowing gaze upon a small blue planet, And what she saw there, hidden away in the back of a dusty bookshop in the more expensive part of Soho was something quite remarkable.

An angel and a demon, agents of light and darkness, good and evil. Hereditary enemies since before the dawn of time, were holding hands.

And they seemed to be enjoying it.

There was something strangely familiar, she thought, in the way their palms were pressed together, fingers intertwined.

It reminded her a little of something she’d seen once, in a garden long ago.

And she smiled. Because it was good.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> It’s always struck me that in a lot of ways crowley and aziraphale are much closer to humans than they are to other celestial beings. Hence why they enjoy music and food and other “earthly” pursuits while their peers treat human culture with such disdain. Following that logic it seems reasonable that crowley and aziraphale might also feel the need for physical affection, something that heaven and hell would certainly deny them, given that it's not “normal behaviour” for them to want such a thing, turning them both into a couple of gay disasters who just need to hug already. Mostly though I just wanted an excuse to project my own experiences onto these morons.


End file.
